


Rotation Beta

by HarpiesoftheShore



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Drinking, Eavesdropping, Five Year Mission, M/M, POV Outsider, Shore Leave, enlisted personnel, hopefully unobtrusive OCs, outsider pov, starbase
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:46:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24621067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarpiesoftheShore/pseuds/HarpiesoftheShore
Summary: As the Enterprise prepares for shore leave on Starbase 2, a crewmember gains insight into the personal lives of her commanding officers.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 14
Kudos: 85





	Rotation Beta

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've ever written with the intention of posting :)
> 
> I love reading outsider POV, and there's never enough in any fandom.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Martina Ivanovna Fesenko had joined Starfleet to avoid working at her family’s stereo repair shop. She remembers staring out a window one night, a vision of her future striking her in full force: she was good at fixing audio equipment at her father’s shop, and she would take over after her parents retired. She would fix the sound systems of every Sasha, Luda, and T’Pel that came in wanting their entertainment systems to sound brighter and clearer until her hands lost their strength to old age and she died.

That moment had been a watershed. She soon left Saint Petersburg and joined Starfleet. Now _Martinichka_ was Crewman Fesenko of the Federation Starship Enterprise, in charge of maintaining the ship’s internal comms systems. Her current task was repairing a speaker on deck five. As she popped open the adjacent comms control panel, she watched the Captain and First Officer stride down the hallway together. The Captain was speaking softly.

“Well, Mr. Spock, I wouldn’t say that. But you might be right; extending shore leave at Starbase 2 might be a good idea. I do feel as though the crew has been put through the wringer recently,” said the Captain, after a long exhale.

“Indeed, Captain.” He paused, and then said, “Goodnight, Jim.” The Captain smiled softly, said goodnight, and retired into his quarters. It seemed like Mr. Spock waited for a beat before turning, striding down the hallway, and turning left. 

_Jim?_ Martina turned back to the control panel. 

-

“Shields up, yellow alert. Steady—we don’t know exactly what we’re dealing with yet,” said the Captain. “Still no response to our hails, Uhura?”

“Negative sir. No response on all frequencies.”

Martina generally avoided the bridge. There wasn’t any real reason to go up there during her duty shift, and there was certainly no reason to visit during her off-time, but she had made her way up to deck one to get a maintenance schedule signed off on by the Captain. She needed to start the work soon to finish it before next week’s shore leave. She began to regret her decision as the ship shook with the force of a phaser hit to the starboard side.

“Red alert. Charge phasers and lock onto their defense systems. Lieutenant, try hailing them one more time.” 

“Still no response, Captain.” The Lieutenant’s voice was raised in pitch, the sound coming out with strain. Another phaser hit struck the ship and the bridge crew was flung forward. Crewman Fesenko dropped the PADD the Captain was supposed to sign and gripped the railing by the science station. Commander Spock was standing to better see the viewscreen.

The Captain spoke. “Fire phasers and a wide burst of torpedoes,” he ordered. “Helm, evasive maneuvers!” As one more hit landed, the First Officer fell forward over the Captain’s chair, the Captain bracing Spock’s fall with his forearm against the officer’s shoulder. The Captain caught himself as the ship rocked, standing to make sure his second-in-command was alright. He gripped Spock’s arm another moment before turning toward the helm.

“Mr. Sulu, pull us back and fire another torpedo.” As their returning fire met its mark, the bridge breathed a sigh of relief.

“They appear disabled, Captain,” spoke the First Officer, who still stood behind the Captain’s chair, gripping it stiffly.

“They’re hailing us now, sir,” said Uhura.

“Oh, are they now? Onscreen.” The Captain’s lips were pressed into a thin line and his brows were knit together. Martina pressed her back against the wall by the door. As the figures on the viewscreen came into focus, she thought about the winters in St. Petersburg and the freshly fallen snow dusting the world in white.

-

Though it had been on the schedule now for several months, the crew’s shore leave on Starbase 2 was sorely needed following the events of the previous week. Martina was as shaken up by the conflict as anyone else, perhaps more so because she’d been on the bridge to witness things firsthand. She, and the rest of leave rotation beta, greatly anticipated stepping onto the transporter pad and not returning for several days. Martina was especially looking forward to finding a bar and knocking back a few shots of Andorian ale. It wasn’t her uncle’s homemade vodka, but it was nearly as good. 

“I think the first thing I’m going to do is get in some rounds of parrises squares and then maybe find a bookstore,” said Crewman Lossa, tossing a sock into her hamper as they packed their overnight bags. “And can you hurry up! I want to be the first one on that transporter pad. I don’t want to hear the words _Enterprise, engineering,_ or _"diplomatic misunderstanding”_ for the next two days.” 

“I’m almost finished, will you relax! You’re not the only one who wants off this ship after the disaster those guys put us through last week. And I was _unlucky_ enough to be on the bridge to watch it happen!” Martina shot back to her roommate.

“Unlucky? I’d kill to have been on the bridge for that! You know I’ve only ever seen the Captain twice? Ever? Once was when he welcomed us onto the ship and then the other time he was leaving the mess. _Unlucky my—_ ”

“Your weird fixation on the Captain is going to get you into trouble one day, I swear!” Martina laughed, tossing her bag at her roommate. “Hang onto that for a second, would you?” She propped her foot against her bedframe to lace her boots.

As the pair then went toward the door, Crewman Lossa looked over her shoulder and yelled “Lights!”

-

“Let’s get another round down here!” Crewman Fesenko sat at the far end of the bar, six drinks deep with a few guys from ops. The group laughed loudly at something one of the Ensigns said. 

“No, no. I just don’t buy it. Why would anyone want to play poker with—nevermind,” slurred Martina, laughing while knocking back the glass the bartender had just handed her. As she brought the glass down, she suddenly felt very tired.

As she stood up, Crewman Daniels said, “Heading out already Fesenko? We were gonna watch a new holovid on deck six… you can join us if you want. It’s a World War Three thriller.”

“I think I’m going to head out. Last week just caught up to me. Remind me to send the credits I owe you.” Martina gestured toward the bar. 

The hallway she stepped out into was much brighter than the bar, and she found it hard to adjust her eyes to the light. A glance at her watch told her it was already past 01:00 hours. She slumped against the turbolift as it took her down to deck fourteen and hoped that Lossa was still out so she could pass out properly in the quiet and dark. The turbolift halted on deck nine and someone from science stepped on, looking about as worn out as she felt. Before the doors closed, she thought she saw the Captain at the end of the hall. The crewman exited on deck ten. A moment later, Martina sent the lift back to deck nine. 

She walked up the hallway until it stretched to the left and right. The left was unlit and seemed to lead to some of the station’s labs. The right was lit dimly by a light at the end of the hall. Turning right, Martina stopped at the door to the old officer’s lounge, which was cracked open. The last time she’d been to Starbase 2, they’d been building the new one on deck seven, and she supposed that no one had bothered boarding this one up. She peered through the crack and then rubbed her eyes, thinking she wasn’t seeing straight. 

The Captain and Commander Spock were seated on a couch in front of a large viewscreen. The Captain, who had kicked his boots off by the door, had his feet propped up on the small table in front of them and his head leaned against Mr. Spock’s shoulder. 

“What program would you prefer to watch tonight?” asked the First Officer.

“Hm, why don’t you pick tonight, Spock. I picked last time, and I don’t suppose you want to watch another two hours of _How It’s Made_?"

“As much as I do enjoy learning how everyday objects are made, I find the format prolongs research that could be obtained from reading a computer printout.” He paused a moment. “I think a program we might enjoy is _Solar Night_ ; it received much praise at last year’s film festivals, both on Earth and on other Federation planets.”

“Well, if it did well on Earth _and_ other Federation planets, I’d say that’s good enough for us, right Spock?

“It seems likely, Jim.”

_What on Earth?_ She rubbed her eyes again, truly feeling the force of a week’s fatigue. The Captain’s program began to play. Martina felt like she was intruding on something she wasn’t supposed to see. As the Captain drew a throw pillow into his lap and brought his feet up under himself, Martina stepped back into the hall, entered a turbolift, found her room, and passed out.

-

“So when did you get back last night?” asked Crewman Lossa the following morning. “You looked about dead when I got back.” Her toothbrush stuck out of the side of her mouth as she spoke. She kicked her dirty uniform shirt from the floor onto her bed.

“Not all that late, considering. Sometime after one?” Martina’s head pounded and she was grateful that there was no bright sunlight to wake her up on the Starbase. She folded yesterday’s uniform and placed it at the foot of her bed, then rifled through her overnight bag, looking for her deodorant. “I am absolutely starving. Let’s find something to eat.”

“I think I walked by a cafe last night on my way back from watching that holovid—which was awful, by the way, you didn’t miss much—and I think if we leave now we should get there before it gets swamped by hungover JOs. I swear they forget they’ve already graduated from the Academy.”

“Val, you’re just saying that because you can drink as much as the junior officers and wake up feeling fine. They’ll catch up to you eventually.” Martina pulled a fresh uniform from her bag and walked to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

“It just looks sloppy, waking up at noon and smelling like yesterday’s Samarian Sunset,” said Lossa as she put on pants and pulled her hair back. 

“I just wish we had it in us to sleep past six in the morning. Those JOs are lucky they remember how to sleep in,” she called from the bathroom. “Could you bring me my toothpaste?”

Lossa grabbed it from Martina’s zip-up travel kit, handing it to Martina through the doorway.

“All set, Val?” 

“Set,” Lossa said with a smile.

-

The two crewmen found the little cafe that Lossa had described. It was called _Nebula Coffee._ It was mostly empty, save for the barista and a couple of Starbase crewmen. Martina and Lossa ordered breakfast sandwiches and coffees, then moved to claim a table that overlooked the promenade. They watched the sleepy Sunday morning activities in the mostly deserted space. The barista brought them their food, and they ate in comfortable silence.

“So I kissed Daniels last night.”

Martina picked up her coffee and took a measured sip. “Oh? How did that come about?”

“It was during that awful holovid! We were both sitting in the back row, so thank god no one saw us. We were both pretty boozed-up.” Lossa didn’t look distressed.

“Are you going to talk to him today?”

“That’s probably a good idea. Hey, is that… Commander Spock?” Lossa pointed down to the promenade below. The Enterprise’s First Officer was making his way across the walkway toward the entrance to a bookstore. 

“Yeah, that’s definitely him. I wonder what he’s up to this early. Is that bookstore even open?”

The Commander waited by the entrance for a moment and was soon approached by a man in a green tunic. He was holding two cups of what looked like coffee. 

“Oh my god, is that the Captain?” asked Lossa. 

After what she had seen the previous night, Martina was not at all surprised to see the pair still together. She guessed that they had fallen asleep together on that couch and split up only to change their uniforms. Martina rubbed her eyes. “Looks like it.” 

Captain Kirk smiled at Spock and handed him one of the cups. If it was for Spock, it was probably tea rather than coffee. He then brought his hand up to Spock’s back to guide him into the bookstore. As they entered, his hand traced down Spock’s arm, squeezing his hand for a moment before letting go.

“I— _what?_ ” Lossa didn’t know what to say.

Martina shook her head. “I have no idea.”


End file.
